100 Years of Civil Aviation: A History from the 1919 Paris Convention to Retiring the Jumbo Jet

By Ben Skipper

An examination of civil aviation history from the end of World War I to the retiring of the Jumbo Jet.

The book examines a century of civil aviation; in 1919 a fledgling industry was born out of civilianizing First World War bombers. The book covers the design and development of civil aircraft and all the personalities that shaped the industry; it features the hay-day of air travel before the advent of mass passenger transit, and the rise of smaller, austerity airlines. It covers the influence of military aircraft on civil planes, unpacks the laws that govern civil aviation and how they have changed over the past century. It chronicles air disasters, both mechanical and tyrannical, and for the first time, looks at the role of women in civil aviation. Playing its part in times of crisis, civil aviation has led rescue missions and covert operations; civilian pilots were often used to test and transport new aircraft from their manufacturers to the frontline, often unarmed and unescorted. The book ends with the quiet retirement of an icon, amid a global pandemic and what lies in store for a greener flying future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen and Sword
• Release date: Nov 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781399065986

Ben Skipper

Ben Skipper, a RAF veteran, is an avid modeler and writer of military themes, specializing in 20th century subjects. Skipper’s work has been featured in previous Pen & Sword titles and has, on occasion, won prizes.His interest in British armor was cemented by a visit to the Kings Royal Hussars in the early 90s as an undergraduate in the Territorial Army. Upon graduation Ben Skipper joined the RAF, where he served for five years, clocking up the air miles in a range of RAF transport aircraft including the VC10 and C17.It was while serving with the RAF that his first foray into writing occurred, reporting on his experiences of a Kosovo/FYROM tour for an in-service trade magazine. On leaving the RAF, Skipper continued to develop his writing and research skills working within the third sector and NHS researching military and veteran subculture. Some of this work would be used to shape key government veteran policies.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

The story of flight is one of human endurance, ingenuity and persistence. The early years of the twentieth century saw civil aviation take faltering steps, with the First World War acting as catalyst. In the dying embers of conflict, the leading aviation and law experts of the International Commission for Air Navigation (ICAN) gathered in Paris to produce a Convention Relating to the Regulation of Aerial Navigation, subsequently signed on 13 October 1919. The Convention provided the necessary regulation of safe and secure flight by defining and guiding the principles and provisions concerning flight. It heralded the boom of flight. Within twenty years of its signing, increasingly sophisticated passenger aircraft would be crossing continents and oceans in ever-increasing numbers.

To fly and soar have been one of humanity’s greatest desires, fed by tales of flying pioneers, including Daedalus and Icarus, and their wings of wax and feather. It was the ancient Babylonians who first noted that to fly was ‘a great privilege. Knowledge of flying … is a gift from the gods’. Indeed, there exists a great deal of evidence that the ancients achieved flight.

In China, around 2,000 BCE, there are stories of flying emperors and scholars taking to the skies to escape some earthbound calamity or map the lands beneath them. By 400 BCE the Chinese were using kites to help understand flight mechanics and characteristics. This led to some rather interesting experiments, including one by Emperor Wan-Hu who built a chair-like device to which he attached two kites and forty-seven rockets. The emperor then ignited the rockets, dissappearing in the resultant explosion.

To the east was the Persian Shah Kai Kawus whose own attempts at flight with four tethered eagles saw him land, according to legend, in China. The most inspiring tales come from India’s sacred texts, the Samaranga Sutradhara, which give the reader 200 stanzas regarding the operation of Vimanas, flying machines akin to jet aircraft with regards to propulsion method and overall performance.

In the eleventh century a Benedictine monk in Malmesbury, Britain, known as Elmer, was experimenting with flight. Previous experiments had seen the aspiring aeronaut attach homemade wings to his back. Copying designs from Greek myths, Elmer used a mix of materials to create wings which were then attached to his arms and feet.

Once his creation was ready, he ascended one of the monastery’s towers and threw himself out into the air. Miraculously, his design worked; with a flight distance of 755 feet (230 metres) recorded, the smoothness of Elmer’s flight was interrupted by a crash-landing likely caused by air turbulence created by the physical presence of the monastery structure. Although he broke both legs, Elmer could understand why he crashed, but not how he could have prevented it.

The next innovation came from fellow monk, philosopher and scholar, Roger Bacon, in the thirteenth century. While not a practitioner like his predecessor Elmer, Bacon considered the theory of successful flight. He made two key developments. The first was the design of a craft known as an ornithopter, which gained flight through flapping wings, much like a bird. Unfortunately, this method of flying, despite repeated attempts, remains unachievable.

The second development was a theory that, like water, the air was fluid. It was in his book History of Art and Nature that Bacon concluded a globe filled with ‘ethereal air’ or ‘liquid fire’ would give it buoyancy, allowing it to rise. While Bacon’s idea of what constituted ethereal air and liquid fire was pure supposition, he was on the right track in theorizing on the existence of gases such as helium and hydrogen as well as hot air – all of which would be proven, nearly 600 years later.

Bacon’s work was published before the significant expansion of European creative and scientific consciousness that heralded the age of the Renaissance. It was an age that would develop aeronautical innovations still in use today. One of the era’s great thinkers, Leonardo da Vinci, sketched over 500 designs of various flying machines, the most famous of which was the early human-powered helicopter. Da Vinci’s collection of sketches also included an ornithopter and wings that were designed and built as a result of his study of birds’ and bats’ wings. Although many of his designs would never fly due to a lack of understanding of the mechanics behind bird flight, da Vinci’s fundamental discovery was the need for a tail to help stabilize any act of flying.

In 1670, a discovery was made by Italian priest Father Francesco de Lana who reasoned that removing the air from a suitably sized cooper sphere would make it lighter than its surroundings and thus rise. Unfortunately, while the science was perfect, the manufacturing processes of the period were not. So, de Lana’s theories could not be put into practice.

The discovery of gaseous hydrogen by scientist and philosopher Henry Cavendish in 1766 advanced the prospect of lighter-than-air flight. Hydrogen weighs a tenth of the air around us, with a mass of two grams per 22.4 litres of volume, or seven percent of atmospheric air. Nevertheless, despite Cavendish’s discovery, the process of achieving lighter-than-air flight was not immediately seized upon. Instead, that crown went to the hot-air pioneers, the Montgolfier brothers.

Joseph and Étienne Montgolfier, sons of a papermill owner, were spellbound by the idea of flight and all the marvels it might bring. Early experiments used paper envelopes filled with steam to achieve lift. These attempts failed as the paper envelopes became little more than a soggy mess. Unperturbed, the brothers continued their work, using self-refined hydrogen from coal to help achieve lift. But, like the earlier steam experiments, nothing happened initially.

Then, in 1782, the brothers had their first success: they designed a taffeta balloon lined with fireproof alum-treated paper and filled it with hot air. The experiment was a success and spurred the brothers’ enthusiasm. Several more experiments followed, with flight distances constantly increasing. Finally, in September 1783, they made their first public breakthrough. The Montgolfiers made a royal demonstration of their balloon in the presence of Louis XVI. The flight was the first to carry passengers: a duck, a cock and a sheep. The flight would also establish whether there would be any ill effects on possible future passengers. Again, the flight was a success, and on 21 November 1783 the first passengers took to the air in a larger balloon fuelled by an iron furnace. Physicist Jean-François Pilâtre and the Marquis d’Arlandes François Laurant ascended to a height of around 2,950 feet (900 metres), travelling 6.2 miles (ten kilometres) before landing safely. The first obstacle to artificial flight had been overcome, setting imaginations ablaze.

By 1785 the first cross-channel flight in a balloon had taken place with François Blanchard and Dr John Jeffries flying from Dover to Calais on 7 January. Later that year, Blanchard would demonstrate the first practical use of a parachute. He would cross the Atlantic in 1793 to continental North America, where he delivered the first piece of airmail to George Washington after a balloon flight from Philadelphia to New Jersey.

The next leap forward occurred in 1886 when another Frenchman, Clémant Ader, designed and made the Ader Éole, a bat-wing-inspired aeroplane powered by a 20hp steam engine. Although on the right track, the lack of control meant that most of Ader’s flights were little more than wild hops, but the point was made that powered flight was possible. The experimentation continued, and on 31 July 1894, industrialist and inventor of the machine gun, Sir Hiram Stevens Maxim, achieved powered flight, albeit uncontrolled and unintended. A test rig, designed to test wing form, broke free of its shackles and flew for 180 metres with Maxim and three others on board, before crashing.

Then, on 17 December 1903, on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, the miracle finally happened: a controlled, powered flight took place near Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. For twelve seconds the world must have stood still for Wilbur Wright as he watched his brother Orville control their aeroplane into history.

The twentieth century saw incredible advances in aviation as the Wright Flyer ushered in a new age of innovation and adventure. In 1906, Glenn Curtiss, whose designs would help establish the first commercial air service, met with the Wright brothers to exchange notes on aircraft design and handling. By 1908 Curtiss had designed and built the June Bug, a biplane capable of taking off under its own power and fitted with a wheeled undercarriage. The wings of his biplane curved towards one another and were fitted with wingtip-mounted ailerons. As a result of his work Curtiss became the first licensed US pilot. Any idea of a mutually beneficial air race between the Wrights and Curtiss was short-lived. What should have been a friendly commercial rivalry between all parties and newcomers descended into an almost endless stream of litigation by the Wrights. As a result, the Wrights’ many designs languished while European designers and manufacturers flourished.

At the same time, the Europeans were ahead of the curve in developing the aeroplane. Anglo-French aviator, aircraft designer and manufacturer Henri Farman kicked off the almost frenetic innovation of the period by completing a one-kilometre (1,094-yard) circular flight on 8 January at Les Moulineaux in his Voisin-Farman I biplane. The aeroplane, designed and built with business partner Gabriel Voisin, completed the course in one minute and twenty-eight seconds. Farman won the 50,000-franc Grand Prix d’Aviation prize, sponsored by Henri Deutsch de la Meurthe for anyone completing the course. Petroleum businessman de la Meurthe was fascinated by flight and used his considerable wealth to help stimulate aviation innovation by private individuals like Farman. By March that year Farman was completing flight circuits of 1.2 miles (two kilometres), and by October he had completed a cross-country flight of seventeen miles (twenty-seven kilometres) between the towns of Bouy and Reims.

While impressive in terms of how quickly Farman had built up his aeroplane’s endurance and his proficiency as a pilot, he was still short of the Wright Brothers’ achievements. Before taking their 1905 break, the Wright brothers had achieved vital benchmarks, including flight distances of twenty-five miles (forty kilometres), with an airborne endurance of some thirty minutes. There was also the matter of control, which genuinely defined an aviator’s mount as an aeroplane. The Wrights’ progress in this field allowed them to perform figures of eight relatively easily.

Initially, these claims of the aeroplane’s agility and endurance were met with disbelief by most Europeans. However, the Wrights returned to flying in 1908 after a brief pause. While Orville stayed in the United States to fly their new two-seater aeroplane for the US Army, Wilbur wooed European crowds during the high summer months. Not wasting any time, Wilbur’s first outing took him over the Le Mans racecourse, where he demonstrated the agility of his aeroplane to astonished crowds. During the four months he was in France, Wilbur performed over 100 flights, totalling some twenty-five hours. He also carried passengers on more than sixty occasions and on one occasion flew for two continuous hours. Orville’s work with the US Army ended with the crash of his Flyer due to the propeller shattering on 17 September. His passenger, army Lieutenant Thomas Selfridge, died of his injuries later that day, becoming the first official aeroplane accident fatality. Orville’s wounds, while not life-threatening, would leave him suffering from extreme pain for the next twelve years until X-rays revealed a series of hip fractures and dislocations.

In France, one man in particular had been impressed by Wilbur Wright’s deeds, inventor and engineer Louis Blériot. Blériot would design and build the Type XI (Blériot) monoplane in 1909, an aeroplane in which he would successfully make a cross-country flight of twenty-six miles (forty-two kilometres) between Étampes and Chevilly, south of Paris. Perhaps emboldened by his success, Blériot succeeded in making the first crossing of the English Channel (La Manche) by aeroplane on 25 July and, by doing so, picked up the Daily Mail’s £1,000 prize.

The flight proved many things, not least Blériot’s resolve as he’d made the twenty-seven-minute crossing without a compass in low cloud. It also confirmed that mainland Britain could be reached by aircraft from continental Europe. Some welcomed this significant shrinking of the world; others were alarmed at how the perceived gap between land masses had suddenly exposed vulnerability. Yet, despite misgivings, Blériot received at least 100 orders of his Type XI monoplane.

The Type XI monoplane marked a critical stage in the evolution of aircraft design. Its key features would remain a constant in propeller-driven aeroplane design; these included a crankshaft-driven tractor propeller, a monoplane wing, a covered fuselage structure, rudder pedals and a flexible control stick. The engineers were now making their mark on the development of the aeroplane.

The developments and interest surrounding the aeroplane were now reaching a fever pitch in Europe, with Reims hosting the first air meet between 22 and 29 August 1909. The event attracted thirty-eight aircraft, twenty-eight of which participated in a range of trials and completions sponsored by local champagne producers. As a result of the patronage, the meet also brought an air of unmistakeable glamour.

Joining the likes of Blériot were Glenn Curtiss and Henri Farman. This cosmopolitan collection of aviators would see several records made, including height (508 feet/155 metres) and the distance of 112 miles (180 kilometres) flown in a little over three hours. Nonetheless, there was still a great deal to do, including the design of more reliable aero engines.

1909 was also an unfortunate watershed moment in the history of the aeroplane – the sad beginnings of death related to powered flight. By the end of the year, there had been three deaths. As the pace of development and popularity picked up in 1910, so too did the deaths, with thirty-two more fatalities. One of these deaths was that of Welsh aviation and motoring pioneer, the Honourable Charles Stewart Rolls. Rolls lost his life on 12 July at the Bournemouth air meet when his Wright Flyer broke up mid-air.

1910 also saw a raft of positive developments. The idea of the air meet had spread, with twenty taking place in Europe, the continental United States and North Africa. Innovation continued with the first night flight, an important event in Argentina; the Baroness de la Roche was the first woman to become qualified as a pilot. Then, on his sixth flight, French-American pilot John Moisant, accompanied by his mechanic, Alfred Fileux and a pet cat, Mademoiselle Fifi, as passengers, crossed the English Channel. This flight was a milestone, proving that passengers could quickly be flown to continental Europe and vice versa. In the continental United States, Curtiss biplanes were making headway with ever-increasing long-distance flights, including flights between Albany and New York City, a distance of 158 miles (254 kilometres) and the first use of a radio in an aeroplane.

The following year the aeroplane was well established in the public eye, with its popularity and reliability increasing. French aviator Pierre Prier flew non-stop from London to Paris on 12 April, a distance of 250 miles (402 kilometres) in less than four hours. Air races were becoming more ambitious, with long-distance races becoming prolific. These were completed in stages, with Paris as the main starting point. On the other side of the Atlantic, Calbraith Rodgers completed the first coast-to-coast passage in his Wright Biplane. The 6,437-kilometre (4,000-mile) flight took eighty-two hours and finished in eighty-two stages over forty-nine days. Rodgers’ adventure would see him crash no fewer than nineteen times. However, he was supported throughout by his wife and mother, who followed (on the ground) with any necessary spares.

To the south, Randolph Hearst made the 145-kilometre (ninety-mile) flight from Key West in Florida to Havana, Cuba. This was also the year that Curtiss would fly his first practical seaplane. Another first was the carriage of official air mail. On 18 February, French pilot Henri Pequet took a sack containing 6,000 items of mail over the Yamuna River, from Allahabad to Naini in India, in his Humber-Sommer Biplane. While only covering a short distance of five miles (eight kilometres), Pequet’s journey was the start of the practical use of the aeroplane in the cargo-carrying role.

1912 continued the trend in innovation and milestones, which saw the first use of the parachute from the aeroplane, made by Albert Berry from a Benoist Headless pusher biplane piloted by Tony Jannus. Jannus would later make history by navigating the first point-to-point journey to carry a paying passenger from St. Petersburg, Florida, to Tampa, with Abram Pheil who paid $400 for the honour. After that, two return flights a day took off from St. Petersburg, except on Sundays. Meanwhile, American pilot and writer Harriet Quimby became the first woman to fly across the English Channel, on 16 April, the day after the Titanic sank.

The following year saw the first air crossing of the Mediterranean by Roland Garros in a Morane-Saulnier G two-seater sports aeroplane, on 23 September. The non-stop crossing from Fréjus-Saint Raphaël in the south of France to Bizerte, Tunisia, took Garros eight hours. A fellow Frenchman, Jules Védrines, made the first flight from Paris to Cairo in an epic journey over ten stages that were not without incident. On one occasion, Védrines was tried in absentia by the German authorities for violating German airspace. At this stage in the development of civil aviation, there was no legal framework for overflight, leaving many aviators to rely on the goodwill of the nations they overflew. As well as being a long-distance aviator, Védrines had held the world airspeed record as the first aviator to break the 100mph barrier. To the north, Norwegian explorer and aviator Jens Tryggve Gran was the first to make the hazardous flight across the North Sea on 30 July 1914 in a Blériot XI-2 monoplane. Tryggve Gran departed from Cruden Bay, Scotland, flying to Stavanger, Norway, in a little over four hours and covering a distance of 317 miles (510 kilometres).

By the high summer of 1914, the foundations for efficient and safe civilian aviation as another means of transport, or ‘locomotion’ as observed by British politician Lloyd George, were now in place. Technical development had gathered speed, and the opportunities seemed endless. But storm clouds were gathering.

CHAPTER 1

BEGINNINGS

From Swords to Ploughshares: Laying the Foundations

Before the great calamity of the First World War, passenger aircraft were steadily appearing in the skies. The Russian designer Igor Sikorsky was very much a groundbreaker in the arena of the airliner. His first multi-engine aeroplane, the S-21 Russky Vityaz (Russian Knight), was built in 1911, less than a decade after the Wright Brothers’ Flyer took off. His design would prove that the aeroplane could carry heavy loads effectively and safely. The S-21, built by the Russian Baltic Railroad Car Works, seemed little more than a small railway carriage with wings, yet it could carry seven people. Sikorsky’s S-21 was a quantum leap forward in providing affordable air travel. The S-21 was followed by a range of Sikorsky aircraft, including the flexible Ilya Muromets.

The First World War saw a proliferation of aircraft on all sides, fulfilling various roles and demonstrating how flexible aircraft had become. With the signing of the Armistice, many of the larger aircraft, mainly bombers, became surplus to requirements. While few in number, they sparked the imagination of those wanting to build a better post-war world. 1919 became a pivotal year for civil aviation, with transoceanic crossings established. The first breakthrough came with the transatlantic flight of Lieutenant Commander Albert Cushing Read in a US Navy (USN) Curtiss tri-engine NC flying boat known as NC-4. NC-4 and sister craft NC-1 and NC-3. All three left Naval Air Station Rockaway on 8 May 1919 with intermediate stops at the Chatham Naval Air Station, Massachusetts, and Halifax, Nova Scotia, before flying on to Trepassey, Newfoundland, on 15 May.

As part of an intricate plan and to provide support, including rescue should it be needed, the USN placed a series of eight ships along the eastern side of continental North America. These ships also provided searchlight illumination to aid the navigation of the three flying boats as they flew northward. Also included in the small flotilla was a recently converted minesweeper that served as a tender, the USS Aroostook. The Aroostook sailed ahead of the three flying boats and awaited their arrival at Newfoundland. She would supply mechanical and logistical support before crossing the Atlantic to meet the three flying boats in England.

On leaving Newfoundland on 16 May, the three flying boats began the longest, most dangerous part of their journey, crossing the 1,181-mile (1,900-kilometre) stretch of the Atlantic to the Azores. Once again, the route was marked by the USN, with twenty-two ships spaced out along it, using a combination of searchlights and illumination shells to help aid night navigation. Fifteen hours later a single flying boat, NC-4, landed at Faial Island in the Azores; NC-1 and NC-3 were both forced to land due to poor visibility. NC-1 was rescued by the Greek ship SS Ionia, towing it until the flying boat sank three days later. For their part, the crew of NC-3 taxied 200 nautical miles (370 kilometres) to reach the Azores, where it was taken in tow by a USN ship.

After three days of rest, the NC-4 took off again. Still, mechanical problems forced the flying boat to land 150 miles (241 kilometres) later at São Miguel Island and await the arrival of spare parts so that repairs could be effected. On 27 May, NC-4 took off once more, with thirteen ships providing light to aid navigation between the Azores and the Portuguese mainland. Ten hours later, NC-4 landed in Lisbon harbour. The venture had taken Cushing Read and his crew ten days and twenty-two hours, a flight time of twenty-six hours and forty-six minutes, to cross the Atlantic.

Cushing Read and the crew of NC-4 then flew on to Plymouth, England, arriving on 31 May, taking twenty-three days for the flight from Newfoundland to Great Britain. For this final leg of the journey, ten more USN ships illuminated the route, bringing the total of vessels used to fifty-three. The adventure had proved transatlantic crossings were possible. In later years, Cushing Read would become something of an aviation prophet, stating that flight above 60,000 feet at 1,000mph (1,609km/h) was possible – an idea dismissed as fanciful by peers, but later proved by the exploits of Concorde.

The adventure of the three Curtiss flying boats and their crews included stops, tremendous logistical support and planning, and proved that transatlantic flight was possible – established within a month by Alcock and Brown’s non-stop flight.

Their feat was in response to a challenge set by the Daily Mail, which sponsored a range of aviation challenges throughout the twentieth century. In 1913, a transatlantic flight prize was offered by the newspaper, but the First World War intervened. In 1918, the prize was revisited with a £10,000 prize. The prize came with conditions, stipulating that it would be awarded to any ‘aviator who shall first cross the Atlantic in an aeroplane in flight from any point in the United States, Canada, or Newfoundland to any point in Great Britain or Ireland, in seventy-two consecutive hours’. The conditions also stated that aviators must attempt the flight in a single aeroplane, which meant changing aircraft would disqualify participating teams and pilots. Interestingly, no mention of the flight being non-stop could have allowed participants to land to refuel.

Pilot John Alcock and navigator Arthur Whitten Brown made their non-stop flight in a modified Vickers Vimy VI heavy bomber, powered by two Rolls-Royce Eagle 360hp engines, taking off on 14 June 1919 from St. Johns, Newfoundland, carrying mail stamped with the inscription ‘Transatlantic Air Post 1919’.

What followed the pair and their aeroplane, loaded with a staggering 3,900 litres of fuel, was nothing short of an adventure. Departing at 13:45, the team headed east, and by 16:30, they had crossed the Canadian coastline, heading out over the Atlantic. Unfortunately, within an hour, their wind-driven electrical generator had failed, leaving them without a working radio and no contact with the outside world. It also meant that their internal intercom no longer functioned, and they lost power to the aeroplane’s heating systems, including their electronically heated flight suits. As a result, the aviators were exposed to the elements for the flight’s duration. A blown-out exhaust pipe further compounded this calamity. The resulting noise left all conversation between the two men almost impossible.

At the same time, the pair were flying through thick fog, preventing Brown from using his sextant to aid navigation. Throughout the flight, Alcock’s airmanship was tested. He twice lost control of the Vimy, nearly crashing on one occasion after a spiral dive. He also had to deal with a broken trim control, battling an aeroplane becoming increasingly nose-heavy as it consumed fuel. The result was that the altitude flown was often close to sea level.

Just after midnight on 15 June, Brown got his first glimpse of the stars and was able to use the sextant, confirming that they were on course. Unfortunately, by the early hours the aeroplane was flying through sleet, drenching both men, which only added to their woes. By this point, the aeroplane’s instruments had iced up, and the possibility of the aircraft becoming unflyable as a result of ice formation throughout its fuselage and wings was a real possibility. In addition, Brown often exposed himself to the risk of falling out of the open cockpit as he cleared the ice.

Finally, at 08:40 on 15 June 1919, the pair landed at Derrygilmlagh Bog, near Clifden, in County Galway, Ireland, having flown 1,889 miles (3,040 kilometres) in fifteen hours and fifty-seven minutes at an average speed of 115mph (185km/h). Brown would later remark that they could have pressed on to London if the weather had been kinder. As a result of their feat, Alcock and Brown won the Daily Mail’s prize and proved beyond doubt that uninterrupted transatlantic flight by aeroplane was possible. The pair was later bestowed the title of Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE) by King George V for their heroic feat.

Within a month of Alcock and Brown’s achievement, the rigid airship (dirigible) the R34, under the command of Major George Scott, made the first return crossing of the Atlantic by aircraft. The twenty-nine military personnel on board for the journey were a mix of sailors, soldiers and airmen from the newly formed Royal Air Force (RAF) and a stowaway, William Ballantyne, along with Wopsie the cat. The crew included Air Commodore Edward Maitland, who had commanded a Naval Airship Station during the First World War. Also aboard were the Americans Lieutenant Commander Zachary Lansdowne and Lieutenant Colonel William Hensley. They acted as independent flight observers and represented the US Navy and Army. As the R34 was not a passenger airship, slinging hammocks in the keel walkway provided extra crew accommodation needed for the flight. Another important addition was welding a plate to an engine exhaust pipe, allowing the crew to prepare hot food. The R34 left East Fortune, Scotland, on 2 July 1919.

One hundred and eight hours later, on 6 July, the R34 came to rest at Hazelhurst Field, Mineola, Long Island, United States, with her fuel almost exhausted. As none of the crew had the necessary experience in docking a giant rigid-bodied airship, Major John Pritchard descended by parachute to make the necessary arrangements. Pritchard also became the first person to reach American soil by air from Europe. The return flight had the wind behind it, and leaving the United States four days later, on 10 July, the R34 took off on her return journey to RNAS Pulham, Norwich, England. The R34 returned home with mail while the crew was gifted a gramophone and a welcome ration of rum. The R34 arrived safely at RNAS Pulham 75 hours later on 13 July. The R34 adventure rightly surmised that well-appointed airships would have a significant part in long-distance travel, where paying patrons enjoyed comforts usually reserved for premier ground or sea travel journeys.

Not to be outdone by the airship, the aeroplane continued to show its mettle. Between 12 November and 10 December 1919, Australian brothers Ross and Keith Macpherson-Smith completed the first flight from Hounslow, Great Britain, to Darwin, Australia. Along with their mechanics, Jim Bennett and Wally Shiers, the four men covered a distance of 11,293 miles (18,175 kilometres). The brothers were awarded knighthoods and a £10,000 prize from the Australian government. For its part in all these adventures, the Vimy would be converted into a passenger aircraft. It would become the parent aeroplane of the somewhat bulbous Vimy Commercial, becoming one of the first purpose-built post-war passenger aircraft. The Commercial would see use with Imperial Airways and French operator Grands Express Aériens.

It was clear the aeroplane was here to stay, and the initial post-war adventures of daring-do opened the floodgates for the dreamers, the designers and the innovators. With every new aviation adventure, the world shrank a little more. The desire to utilize the aeroplane’s potential reached fever pitch. The technological and social leaps and bounds that would take place in the coming years may well have been the stuff of dreams in a world shattered by war. But there was no stopping them. The dreams had wings.

From the Ashes Comes Order

While 1919 was a pivotal year for civil aviation, it was also the year that the legal and political frameworks to support civil aviation were established. In many respects, 1919 was the founding year of a formalized and regulated civil aviation industry as introduced at the Paris Convention. The convention had its genesis in the late nineteenth century at a gathering held in 1880 at Oxford where a multinational group of jurists regarded the impacts and implications of cross-border aviation by aircraft. The Oxford conference discussed flight’s civil and military consequences and the possible legal complexities that this would bring. Several unofficial, quasi-legal stances existed on what would become aviation law. The line of thought adopted by aviators, though not necessarily by sovereign nations, was merely to expand the notion that the freedom of the high seas carried over into the aeronautical field as freedom of air. The logic here is that, like the high seas, the air was the common property of humanity and so could not be owned or claimed. To counter this was the theory of complete and exclusive sovereignty, whereby the airspace above a state’s territory was an extension of that sovereign territory. A final theory recognized the airspace above sovereign territory as national airspace and, as such, the state would allow access rights through freedom of air.

By the turn of the twentieth century, there was a growing consensus regarding some form of airspace regulation above sovereign territories. The complete and exclusive sovereignty idea was growing but had not yet won the day. French and German jurists sought a mixed access model, which took an ‘open skies’ approach. French jurist Paul Fauchille was the principal force behind formulating a code for international air navigation. The British pushed for ‘a right of sovereignty over aerial space above its soil, saving the right of … passage for a balloon and other aerial machines’. There was work to be done.

Somewhat surprisingly, it was the rules of war, formulated at the Hague Peace Conference, that would help develop later aviation law. At the first Hague Peace Conference in 1899, a five-year ban was placed on discharging weaponry or explosives from aircraft, in this case, balloons. The ban was further extended at the Second Hague Peace Conference in 1907. Even though many of the articles agreed upon in both conferences were broken during the First World War, they proved that international consensus and cooperation were possible.

The Hague Peace Conferences’ approach to regulation would also help shape future aviation laws, using national security as a critical factor in formulating legislation and regulation. The need for this formalized approach to aviation law grew in importance as increasingly sophisticated powered aircraft, which seemed to be developing at a prodigious rate, took to the sky. The meetings of thinkers, jurists and government departments continued throughout the pre-war years. As they did so, more nations became involved, each eager to have their say. By 1910 Fauchille had drawn up a code of air law, published at the International Air Navigation Conference held in Paris. Within the code were two articles, 19 and 20, that dealt explicitly with ‘restrictions which states might impose on foreign aircraft in the air space above its territory’. The pioneering notions of free airspace had been brushed aside in the name of security and sovereignty.

A further meeting in Madrid in 1911 saw other changes. Most importantly, states had the right to regulate traffic over land and water but should permit the free passage of all airships [aircraft] of all nations. This ambiguity did little to help, and by 1913 France and Germany had adopted the British stance of maintaining airspace as sovereign territory. The British cemented their approach by enacting the Aerial Navigation Act 1911, confirming that airspace over the British Empire was sacrosanct in its sovereignty.

As part of the post-war discussions regarding the future of air navigation, no doubt heavily influenced by the events of the previous four years, the element of air sovereignty re-emerged, this time to follow the British lines of thinking as defined in the Aerial Navigation Act. As part of the peace process, a new body was established, the Aeronautical Commission of the Peace Conference (ACPC). The ACPC had its roots in the Allied military aviation organizations and helped form a sturdy foundation for the 1919 Paris Convention.

The new convention saw fundamental changes in attitudes, most notably from the French delegation, whose